


Rather Said Than Spoken

by knowitallthrowitall09



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Accidental Force Bond (Star Wars), Angst because I wanna, Beskar Is Shiny, Breaking Down Din’s Walls Takes Time, Children involved in war, Dimension Travel, F/M, Fix-It of Sorts, Fluff, Force Sensitivity (Star Wars), Grogu Has Yet Again Been Grogu-napped, Hurt/Comfort, I wonder about the Jedi, Luke Skywalker Needs A Hug, More like Luke Skywalker needs a character evaluation, Oc Has Been OC-napped, Other, Protective Din Djarin, Put a tracker on this kid, Slow Burn, eventually
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:22:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28416813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knowitallthrowitall09/pseuds/knowitallthrowitall09
Summary: By all rights and purposes she should really be dead by now. From literally being flung into space, catching the attention of a dark lord from an entirely different universe and the many firefights that came after her arrival into her new reality. The universe should have punched her ticket long ago- though by some miracle she is still standing. Clenching tightly to the shiny vambrace of her saviour and twisting her fingers into the armor of her last hope (and latest miracle).
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Grogu | Baby Yoda & Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 3





	1. Chapter 1

This is the first time that I have actually had a clear beginning, middle, and end of a fix pop up into my head, and honestly I think it started out as a daydream and I have to get it onto some kind of outlet before I literally go insane from keeping this in my mind. Hope you enjoy, at least a little crumb to start.


	2. Chapter One

Shimmering sunlight filters through the crack in the binds, setting the small bedroom aglow with a morning haze. The dust particles sparkle and reflect the light before settling on the face of a sleeping woman. Her mouth hangs wide open and her chest rises and falls with each breath while drool slowly collects at the corner of her mouth to create a small pool beneath her. 

The light flits over her lids and they begin to shutter at the intrusion of her sleep, blinking open to reveal glazed over vibrant green irises squinting at the blinds. Her brown hair is fanned among the many pillows piled at the head of her bed and rests in waves as she shakes her head to clear the fog. Slowly she curls her toes and unwinds her curvy frame to stretch herself out, akin to a cat spreading to sunbathe. 

“Shit,” she groans as a pale hand reaches to wipe the saliva off of her mouth and then drops it to land in the small puddle beside her. A noise of discontent arises from her throat as she rolls off the bed onto weary feet, making her way to the restroom. 

She suffers groggily through her daily routine before settling into a pair of jogging shorts and a sweatshirt and heading into the kitchen. She checks her phone, unsurprised to see a message from her boss,   
‘Hey, I know it's late but do you mind heading in a little bit early to the shop today? Dash called in sick and this bitch is complaining about the wait on her Honda already. Thanks’ [sent 5:03 a.m.] 

Letting out a sigh of resignation as she types out her reply of affirmation before tucking her phone into the pocket of her joggers and grabbing the bottle of water on the counter before heading out the door for her morning walk. Popping in her earbuds she pulls out her phone again before opening her music app up to hit shuffle on her usual playlist and starts off on her usual trail.

It’s not much, but the hour route that Wyn Organ takes in the morning is the only hour of actual peace that is allotted to her throughout her day. The smell of fresh air straight from the trees and the crisp wind that nips at her through her clothes is what gives her the strength to deal with anything else that life throws at her. 

So when some leather wearing asshole stops her in the middle of her morning walk by standing directly in her path with a gloved hand on his hip holster, she is in the most concise way to say, fucking pissed.


End file.
